Magic of the Heart
by ElouiseBates
Summary: Princess Telyn, youngest child of the High King and Queen, seeks to discover if magic still exists in Prydain after the passing of the Sons of Don.
1. Chapter 1

It was time for Telyn's history lesson, but she wasn't interested in studying today. She plopped her chin into her hands and sighed gustily, fluttering the leaves of _The Book of Three_.

Dewin raised his bushy eyebrows. "Is something the problem, Princess?" he asked mildly.

The little princess raised troubled blue eyes to her tutor. "Dewin, I just can't read any more of this today!" she declared.

"And why not?" He smiled slightly. "Are your brothers planning some mischief you want to join?"

Telyn shook her head, sending her unbound hair cascading down her back in a red-gold stream. "No, it's just … Dewin, it isn't fair! Why did all the magic have to leave Prydain with the Sons of Don?"

"It is how it was ordained to be," the old man, both court bard and royal tutor, answered promptly. "Prydain is now a man's land (or perhaps, more precisely, I should say human), and it is for humans to decide their own destiny, without any magic."

Telyn brushed his solemn explanation away with one dramatic sweep of her hand. "I've heard all that before," she reminded him. "I _still_ don't think it's fair! Mother and Father got to see such exciting things—enchanted rings, Fair Folk, Dyrnwyn before its flame was quenched—why did we have to lose _all_ magic? Surely just a little—here or there—wouldn't have hurt anyone? I'd give anything to see something magical." Here she sighed again.

Dewin's keen eyes twinkled. "As it happens, Princess," his hushed tones and serious face a contrast to his merry eyes, had the princess chosen to notice, "I am in possession of one of the last magical items left in all Prydain."

Telyn's delicate face brightened immeasurably. "Really? May I _see_ it?"

"More—I will let you borrow it."

Telyn clasped her hands together in ecstatic delight. "Oh Dewin, you _are_ good."

Dewin turned from her and rummaged in his chest for a moment. Telyn watched in amazement as scrolls, vellums, slippers, fur-lined robes, and half-eaten stale loaves of bread flew every which way. Finally, Dewin came up for air, his face flushed from stooping.

"Here," he said, laying the small item down on the table before her.

Telyn bit her lip in disappointment. "Spectacles?" she said, gazing at the round lenses and silver rims. They did not look very prepossessing.

Dewin looked aghast. "Just spectacles, you say? Great Belin, Princess! These bear the most powerful magic left in Prydain! Never dismiss something simply because it looks uninteresting." He leaned over and tapped her nose. "It is what is inside that counts, not outside."

Telyn looked at the battered spectacles with more respect. "What do they do?"

Dewin glanced around mysteriously before answering. "They show you things. Magical things. Things you can't see with just your eyes."

Telyn's own eyes rounded into deep pools of blue. "Ooh," she breathed. "May I try them now?"

Dewin nodded, his long beard brushing his belt. "Let me help you."

The princess held her hair away from her face as Dewin hooked the spectacles over her ears and settled them on her nose. He bit his lip to keep from smiling at the comical figure she now cut, for the spectacles were far too big for her pointed face, and they enlarged her eyes until she resembled a wise old owl.

"I don't see anything different," Telyn pronounced in disappointment.

"Just wait," Dewin told her. "Keep looking, and soon you will see." He helped her to her feet and ushered her toward the door. "And now, Princess, run along outside. History can wait until tomorrow."

He watched her dash off, tripping, as usual, over her long gown, her head turning back and forth as she sought for the magic of the spectacles.

"Bless her heart," the bard said fondly.

* * *

_**Author's Note:** I have always hesitated about attempting an "after the Chronicles" story, but this plot bunny hit me, and I decided to go with it. This will likely be about two or three chapters, nothing major, but I'm already vaguely thinking about other stories along these lines--we'll have to see how this one goes!  
_


	2. Chapter 2

Telyn paused in the hallway. Where should she go? To her chamber, where she kept a secret collection of items she fondly hoped were magical? No—even at ten, Telyn knew that half the joy in her treasure was the mystery. Proving one way or the other about their magic would diminish their pleasure.

Where, then? The hemlock grove behind the fortress? The trees were not as ancient as the ones that had stood there when Telyn's parents were young, but Telyn was still sure they were magical. Why, even their _scent_ whispered of enchantment and allure!

Perhaps the Hall of Lore, where Dewin trained the bardic apprentices (when he wasn't teaching the princes and princesses)?

Maybe she should visit her father's Treasure Chamber. There, the High King did not lock away his priceless treasures, but rather displayed them for all to see. Telyn's favourite was the molten harp string given to him by the bard-king Fflewddur Fflam. Sometimes, she even thought she could hear a faint melody still wafting from it, if she listened long and close enough.

No, she decided. The High King's treasures were relics of a magical past. She wanted to see magic _now_!

Not knowing what else to do, she opened the nearest door and walked into the courtyard, heading toward the gardens. A few paces down, she saw her brother Iestyn sitting on a bench, his dark head shining in the sun as he bent over a book.

Telyn squinted at him through the spectacles. Why … how had she never noticed before?

Iestyn had always seemed to her far too serious and sober, a very dull and boring fellow. Not like their elder brother Dafydd, who was always ready with a smile and warm word for everyone; Iestyn was quiet, preferring to stand in the shadows and watch rather than join the other children's games.

Now, however, Telyn saw how kind Iestyn's blue eyes were, how brightly they shone as he studied his book. She noticed his sensitive mouth, trembling as he read a particularly affecting passage, lifting at the corners when he found a happy bit.

She saw his scuffed boots and dirt-stained fingers, bearing evidence of the hours he had spent toiling in the gardens under the hot sun, tearing himself away from his beloved reading to help the overworked Head Gardener provide enough food to feed the poor families who did not have enough.

She even saw the scar on his left hand where she had thrown a comb at him in a fit of temper a few years ago. With a rush, Telyn remembered that he had never told their parents about that, and in fact had never shown her how deep the cut had gone. He had even soothed _her_ when she burst out crying at the sight of his blood.

It had been a lesson in self-control Telyn never forgot, and had never thanked him for.

She stared so long and hard at him that Iestyn felt the force of her gaze and lifted his head. He smiled kindly at her, showing no hint of annoyance over the interruption.

"This is a new look, little sister. Are your eyes bothering you?"

"No," Telyn said, shaking her head in wonder. "I think they are working for the very first time."

With that, she dashed off, leaving the bemused prince behind.

* * *

Telyn wandered through the gardens for hours, more and more enthralled by her new spectacles. She spent a good twenty minutes staring at a late rose bush, seeing for the first time the wonder of the delicately curving petals, the fuzzy stamen at its heart, the deceptively sharp green leaves, and even the tiny little thorns protecting it from clumsy hands who would not savour its beauty. Telyn blushed to think of the many times she had grasped for a flower, half-killing it in her eagerness to pluck it, only to have it fade and be discarded within hours. How much more beautiful was this living rose, with its irregular petals and spicy-sweet scent!

Further along, she spotted a shy wren sitting in a tree. Normally, the princess ignored these tiny brown birds, but this time she froze, marvelling at how small, and yet how perfect it was, and what glorious shades of brown its feathers displayed. When it finally took up courage to puff its throat out and sing, she nearly wept at the beauty of the song hidden inside that plain bird.

From plant to plant, tree to tree, person to person she wandered, seeing new beauty and marvels in every one. She was amazed by the power of her magical spectacles.

"Caer Dathyl is full of magic!" she whispered to herself. "Everything—everyone is magic. How could I never see it before? Our flowers are magical—they are so much more beautiful than any ordinary flowers. And our birds! Such richness hidden beneath their drab appearance. Surely no other birds in Prydain sound half so sweet."

Even the people of Caer Dathyl were magical. Telyn began to believe that there was some magic in the air at the Caer that affected everyone and everything in it. She was so glad Dewin ad lent her the spectacles; she only hoped he wouldn't want them back for a long time. She wanted to explore every corner of the Caer, inside and out, and see al the magic there was to see before she had to give the wonderful spectacles back.

Then she saw a spider's web hanging between two blades of grass. She threw herself down on the ground (much to the detriment of her white gown) and promptly forgot everything else as she gasped at the perfect silken lines, the sparkle of the dew still trapped in its hairs, and way the sunlight turned it more brilliant than any diamond.

Oh, yes. There was still magic in Prydain.


	3. Chapter 3

"Princess Telyn!"

Telyn jumped. She had fallen asleep on the grass while watching the spider's web. She looked up at the sky. Why, she had slept right through dinner, and possibly supper as well! The stars above shone faintly through the fading light as the sun sake down to the western horizon.

"Princess!"

Telyn tore her eyes off the sky. "Here," she called, jumping to her feet.

Dewin's youngest apprentice, a lad about Iestyn's age, hurried toward her.

"There you are! Your mother is frantic with worry, Princess. Where have you been all day?"

Telyn usually felt shy around the bards and their apprentices; she was in awe of their ability to make everything from history to simple thoughts into poems and words to strike all their listeners. Today, however, she was so excited she couldn't help but clutch at the boy's arm.

"Oh, Gwion!" she cried. "It's the most exciting thing that's ever happened to me. I'm terribly sorry to have worried Mother, of course—one should never worry one's mother, especially when she is the High Queen and has so many worries already—but oh! I must tell you about Dewin's spectacles."

Gwion looked slightly bewildered at this onslaught of chatter. "Dewin's spectacles?"

"Yes, they're magic, and oh, I've seen some wondrous things through them today." Telyn put her hands to her face to show the magical item to Gwion. She felt only skin.

"Why, where did they go?" Her little face crumpled. "Oh, no! I can't have _lost_ them! Dewin said they are the last magical item in Prydain! Oh, and I promised to take _such_ good care of them!"

Gwion still didn't understand why she was fretting so over an old pair of spectacles, but he obligingly dropped to his knees to help her look

They searched all around, but the spectacles had well and truly vanished. Neither of them knew that Prince Dafydd, coming upon his sister snoozing in the grass with the spectacles cutting into her light skin, had gently removed them so as not to interfere with her slumber.

Finally, they had to admit that they were gone.

"I'm truly sorry, Princess," Gwion said. "Would you like me to help you explain to Dewin?"

"No," Telyn sighed. "I'm the one who lost them; it's my responsibility. But I'd rather chop off my head with Dyrnwyn!" she added vehemently.

Gwion's smile was thankfully lost in the gathering dusk.

* * *

Telyn was uncharacteristically silent all through the royal family's private supper. As usual, the High King and Queen talked to their children about their days. Iestyn eagerly talked about what he had learned, and the family he had met when giving away the fresh vegetables; Dafydd told about how the Hunting Master had given him a fledgling falcon to train, and Princess Siwan, the eldest of the four, discoursed on what she had learned in council that day.

"And you, Telyn?" the High King prompted.

The little princess shrugged. "I just looked around," she said listlessly, toying with her food.

Her family exchanged worried glances, but held their tongues. Telyn had the oft-lamented lack of discretion that made it impossible for her to worry secretly over anything for very long. Or, indeed, to keep any secret for any length of time. She was the most open and transparent out of all the children.

What bothered Telyn even more than losing the last magical artefact left in Prydain, after Dewin had trusted her with it, was how dull and boring everything looked now. Without the spectacles, she could no longer see magic in anything. She wanted to cry at how drab life appeared after just one day of seeing it through new eyes.

On her way to Dewin's chambers in the Hall of Lore, she heard harp music drifting through his closed door. Her dragging feet slowed to a stop as she listened.

Then, as the music quietly wove around her, Telyn found that the magic hadn't vanished at all! It was still there, in the harp. Even as she listened, the world seemed to brighten, and she noticed the beauty and mystery in everything around her again. The very grain of the wooden floor, the rough texture of the stone walls, took on a wondrous hue in her eyes.

She unceremoniously burst through the door, only to see Gwion sitting before his master, his eyes closed as his fingers gently caressed the harp strings.

"Why!" Telyn exclaimed accusingly. "Dewin, you told me that the spectacles were the last magical item in Prydain, but Gwion's harp is magic, too!"

Dewin rose to his feet, unbothered by the interruption. "The magic you hear, Princess, is not in the harp, but in the player," he said smilingly.

Oh." Momentarily disconcerted, Telyn remembered the dreadful task she was on. "Oh, Dewin," she began, biting her lip.

Gwion coughed. "Shall I go, my lord?"

Dewin shook his head, and the lad regained his seat.

"Dewin, I—I lost the spectacles," Telyn blurted out sadly. "I don't know how! They were on my face when I went to sleep, and gone when I woke up. Oh Dewin, can you ever forgive me?"

The old man placed a gentle hand on her bowed head. "Dear little princess, it is I who ought to ask for your forgiveness. For, you see, the spectacles were never magic to begin with."

Telyn raised her shocked blue eyes to his. "But they _were_. Oh Dewin, I saw such amazing things! I saw Iestyn—he looked so _noble_, truly, and not like my brother at all! And the flowers, and the birds, and the spider's webs—all things I've seen every day of my life, but I've never seen them so …" she trailed off, unable to find the right words to describe her experience. "It was the magic that made them look so," she finally ended.

Dewin shook his head. "You saw them as they have always been—as they truly are. The spectacles did nothing but make you look more closely.

"You see, Princess, we no longer need enchanted items and sorcerers to help us. Prydain still bears the magic it has always had, the magic inherent in it. This is the magic of a simple spider creating a silken masterpiece. Or a young prince who cares so deeply for his people.

"The masterpiece of a rose, the song of a wild bird … those are all more magical than any enchanted sword or Golden Pelydryn." Dewin smiled at Gwion, who was listening intently. "Or a harp in the hands of a bard. Do you understand, Princess?"

"I think so," Telyn said slowly. "You mean that the magic I thought the spectacles showed me was just … the way things really are? And I just hadn't noticed before, because I was too busy wishing for the magic of the tales and legends?"

Dewin nodded with the satisfied air of a master whose pupil has finally solved a difficult problem. "Exactly."

For a moment, Telyn wondered if she should be upset that Dewin tricked her so neatly, just to teach her something, but she was so grateful she couldn't be. She gazed around the room with eyes that looked—that _truly_ looked—for the first time.

"Oh Dewin," she sighed. "_Everything_ is magical."

"It is at that, Princess," the old bard agreed. "It is, at that."

* * *

_**Author's Note: **The idea behind this fic, of course, is hardly original. I was looking at my daughter the other evening and wishing that there really could be magic in the world, for her to experience. This led to me thinking about how sad it would have been for the people of Prydain to have known magic, and then to lose it entirely. I got thinking about why Lloyd Alexander would have written it so ... and this fic came out._

_For those who are interested: Siwan means "bright as the sun," Dafydd means "dearly beloved" Iestyn means "one who is just," and Telyn means "harp." Dewin is the Welsh word for wizard, an irony that amused me. Gwion, as those who know their Celtic mythology should know, was the original name of Taliesin. I am not trying to suggest that Taliesin has somehow returned to Prydain in the form of a young boy, but more hint that perhaps, in time, a bard of his caliber might arise._


End file.
